


Fountains of Grief

by devilinthedetails



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Death, Friendship, Gen, Grief, Jedi Temple, Loss, Mourning, Room of a Thousand Fountains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-23 03:50:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21313717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilinthedetails/pseuds/devilinthedetails
Summary: As Obi-Wan mourns Qui-Gon, Bant comforts him.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	Fountains of Grief

Fountains of Grief

Obi-Wan waited until his new Padawan—it still seemed impossible that he had a Padawan rather than being one himself as if time had leapt forward at warp speed, leaving him painfully and eternally behind—before riding the turbolifts down to the Room of a Thousand Fountains located at the Temple’s northwestern base. 

Extending across seven levels, the massive greenhouse was a rare haven of natural wonders on a city-planet that otherwise was devoted to durasteel and ferrocrete, and, as such, had been a favorite refuge for Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan had accompanied his Master (for that was how he still thought of Qui-Gon and how he was bone-certain he would always think of Qui-Gon until he was well into his senility) to the Room of a Thousand Fountains for meditation and quiet reflection times beyond counting. 

It was these countless memories that carried him, booted feet crunching in the pebbles, down winding pathways. Exotic foliage from across the galaxy arched over the paths in a colorful canopy and potted plants grew in the loam and shade beneath them. Many of the potted plants and exotic foliage were gifts the Jedi had received from planetary governments for successful missions completed over the years. Sometimes Obi-Wan would imagine the stories that might have brought so many different plants to this same space over the unfathomable span of centuries. 

He crossed a little bridge over a stream that flowed from an invisible source to a bench beside one of Qui-Gon’s favorite fountains that trickled in a gentle cascade down a series of mossy rocks. Folding his legs into the traditional meditative pose and closing his eyes, he took a deep breath that filled his nose with the mingled, life-giving scents of dirt and water. 

His ears sang with the music of a thousand flowing and thundering fountains. Their mist condensed on his cheeks like the tears he could never shed in front of his Padawan—the tears that would render him unfit to be an example of Jedi serenity and graceful acceptance of every twist of fate…

He smelled a salty dampness that he always associated with the comfort that only Bant Eerin could offer. He couldn’t believe that it was her because he knew that she and her Master Kit Fisto had been on a long mission before he and Qui-Gon departed for Naboo until he head the soft sound of her voice speaking just loud enough to be heard over the fountains, “Obi-Wan, it’s good to see you again. Or should I call you Master Obi-Wan now?” 

Obi-Wan opened his eyes to Bant’s wide Mon Calamari ones twinkling at him playfully. “You’re my best friend, Bant. You should always call me Obi-Wan.” 

“Congratulations on your new rank.” Bant sat beside him in a rustle of robes. “Becoming a Jedi Knight is a cause for celebration.” 

“I always dreamed of becoming a knight, but I feel as if those dreams were poison now.” Obi-Wan shook his head, unshed tears stinging his eyes like acid. The last thing he felt like doing was rejoicing in a rise of rank that to him was so indelibly linked to Qui-Gon’s death. He didn’t know whether that was wisdom or sorrow or even if wisdom and sorrow were the same painful thing. “I achieved everything that I wanted, and it all feels so hollow with Qui-Gon gone.” 

“I was so sorry to hear of his death.” Bant’s shining gaze clouded with grief, and Obi-Wan recalled with a crushing heaviness in his chest how tender Qui-Gon had always been toward Bant—how he had forever been careful to appreciate Bant’s unique capacity for compassion, a trait he had admired above all others. “He was a great and kind man whose strength was only exceeded by his wisdom.” 

“He was the best Master.” It was a struggle for Obi-Wan’s thick tongue to form the words. Seconds after he had the realization that they might not be considered particularly tactful—no doubt Bant thought her Master was the best—so he added awkwardly, “The best Master for me, I mean.” 

“Yes, he was.” Bant’s murmur invited Obi-Wan to share all his before unspeakable sorrows with her. “You must miss him terribly.” 

“My heart aches with how much I miss him, but I also feel that in many ways his presence is still with me.” Obi-Wan’s forehead furrowed as he contemplated a feeling he could never have articulated without speaking to Bant. When he meditated, he could feel Qui-Gon’s calming presence beside him as if they were breathing in unison. When he was too serious, he could hear Qui-Gon inside his head, teasing away his somberness. When he didn’t know the best way to proceed, he could hear the whisper of Qui-Gon’s wisdom in his ear. When he most needed guidance, he could feel Qui-Gon’s firm hand on his shoulder, steering him in the proper direction. He didn’t know if it was the Force or some delusion brought on by grief but he knew he couldn’t explain it to anyone—not even Bant or himself. It was a secret, eerie yet comforting feeling. “I can’t explain why I feel that way. I just do.” 

“It’s memory.” Bant squeezed his fingers. “You’ll always remember Qui-Gon so you’ll always feel as if he’s with you.” 

Bant had to know what she was talking about because she had lost a Master, Tahl, once. Abruptly ashamed at how poorly he was handling his grief compared to how Bant had hers years ago, he fumbled for an apology. “I’m sorry to burden you with my sorrow when you mourned Tahl so much more maturely years ago.” 

“I mourned Tahl differently than you’re mourning Qui-Gon.” Bant gave Obi-Wan’s fingers a second, stronger squeeze. “I admired her but I barely knew her because she was reluctant to allow me to get too close to her. You knew Qui-Gon so well you could often read his mind and he yours.” 

“Yes.” Obi-Wan nodded his head, and even that simple gesture seemed dizzying to him in his sorrow. “Still I know that it’s foolish for me to think of Qui-Gon enduring in any individual sense now that he’s become one with the Force.” 

“Since he’s become one with the Force, perhaps you can still sometimes feel him in and through the Force.” Bant gave a slight smile thin as hope. “He was a maverick, after all. If anyone could find a way to break the rules about retaining an individual identity after becoming one with the Force, it would be him.” 

“He was always finding a way to break the rules.” Obi-Wan’s lips quirked wryly as he recalled a trait that had perpetually left him frustrated to the point of hair-pulling with his Master. “This reminds me of a conversation I had with him once on a mission where he argued that ghosts might exist, and we just didn’t know it because we didn’t have proof although I believe he might have been teasing me.” 

“Of course he was teasing you.” Bant nudged Obi-Wan affectionately. “If you don’t get teased regularly, you get hopelessly grim, you know.” 

“Hopelessly grim.” Obi-Wan snorted. “That sounds like something Anakin would say when he’s irked by how serious I can be.” 

“Your Padawan?” Bant’s head tilted inquisitively, and her next words confirmed that she must have been filled in on all the latest gossip pertaining to him and Anakin before seeking him out for comforting. “Do you believe he truly is the Chosen One of legend?” 

“Sometimes when he progresses through his training faster than I know how to handle, he seems like everything the Chosen One ought to be. Other times he seems like a regular nine-year-old boy.” Obi-Wan shrugged. Then, tamping his uncertainty down with determination, he went on, “Qui-Gon believed he was the Chosen One, however, and I believe in Qui-Gon, so by the transitive property, I must believe in Anakin as well. At any rate, I’ll train him as best I can whether he’s the Chosen One or not because I gave Qui-Gon my word before he died that I would.” 

Bant nodded as if absorbing all this before remarking, “I’d like to meet your Padawan.” 

“Because he’s the Chosen One prophesied to bring balance to the Force?” Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow. 

“No.” Bant grinned. “Because he’s your Padawan, and he’s important to you.”


End file.
